


Murdoc’s Dream

by MiraculousTalenny



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2D plays dumb for most of this, 2doc - Freeform, Angel!2D, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Eventual relationship, Kissing, M/M, Mainly around Murdoc, Make-out, Marijuana, Murdoc confused asf man someone help him out lol, Murdoc has a dream, Murdoc is drinking but isn’t drunk, Murdoc is human asf, Phase 5, Poorly written but I had to get it down before I forgot, Recreational Drug Use, Supernatural - Freeform, dream or reality?, more tags soon, noodle and Russel are here but not revolving around them, out of character possibly but I am sorry, slight 2doc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-02-27 01:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousTalenny/pseuds/MiraculousTalenny
Summary: Murdoc is gazing up at the moon when he sees something (or someone) rather breathtaking. Is he just dreaming? Or is he actually seeing what he thinks he is?2Doc!Was formerly named The Sun of The Night.





	1. Murdoc’s Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This was poorly written and came to mind while the song Fluttershy’s Dream by Blaze was playing on my TV. Based off the song but not MLP related or anything. I ain’t a brony either, just love the song itself. 
> 
> Slight 2Doc!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc’s just trying to relax.
> 
> That will never go to plan.

The moonlight draping across the damp grass of the Spirit House backyard gave the environment surrounding Murdoc a beautiful nightly blue hue. The wind blowing by gently rustled the blades of grass and the leaves on the trees. It was chilly, but not enough for a thick jacket. 

 

The sun of the night held the fifty-two-year-old bassist’s mismatched gaze for what seems like ages. Thoughts raced through his mind one after another, sporadically and rapidly ranging from melodic tunes to add into his notebook, off-topic segments of new possible lyrics, and sometimes onto the relationships he held with each of his bandmates.

 

It had become a routine since his return from prison. Every full moon, Murdoc would lay on his back in the grass of Gorillaz’s backyard, gazing up at the stars, clouds, and the bright white full moon, thinking and drinking to himself. Mostly drinking, but the thoughts rampaging through his mind under the light of the moon brought the bassist a weird sense of relief. The lonely activity may seem rather isolating to Murdoc’s band mates, and maybe even a bit strange, but to him, it was relieving. Something about the moon’s presence energized him, lifted his spirit, and rejuvenated his mind is ways he’d never understand. 

 

Murdoc refuses to blame the effects on the alcohol he consumes while he does this, because he’d done the exact same thing before completely sober, and it didn’t differ apart from feeling a bit fuzzy and more at ease while intoxicated. The bassist bathes in the moonlight like a flower in the sun, soaking up its energy into his soul.

 

Change hasn’t been easy. Since his return, Murdoc’s been kicking  _ most  _ of his old habits into the past while also trying to welcome new beneficial ones. He no longer hits or strangles 2D, insults Russel, or inconsiderably does whatever he pleases, but his flaming temper and drinking problem still exists. But at the same time, the bassist had grown much kinder when he isn’t under the weather, and his hangovers were becoming less and less. Murdoc figures that if he can continue with his “moonlight therapy”, as he put it to 2D, he can continue to change into a better band leader  _ and  _ person. 

 

Murdoc blinked a few times before sitting up, eyes cast upwards as he fished out his flask from his hoodie pocket, expertly twisting off the lid before taking a few sips. He was tipsy, and intended on maintaining his relaxing buzz for as long as he could stay awake. With no means to get absolutely plastered, Murdoc didn’t feel as guilty or ashamed drinking right now. He exhaled heavily, looking around the yard to see was still alone. Returning the flask, the bassist pulls out his phone from the same pocket.

 

2:03am

 

It was shocking how fast time passes during his moon-gazing. He remembers leaving the warmth of the house for the backyard just around midnight.

 

Murdoc considers going inside and calling it a night, but decides against it. He wasn’t tired yet, and the moon was still in the clear night sky. He decides that once the moon was obstructed, or until it is 3:00am, he will continue with his current isolation. 

 

Returning to his back, Murdoc shuts his eyes for a few moments. 

 

The moon is hovering over his relaxed form, feeding him with energy and peace. The bassist could never accurately describe what it was about the full moon he loved so much to anyone even if he tried. But that didn’t matter because no one saw the moon like he did anyways.

 

At least he thought so.

 

A weak sigh leaves his parted lips as his mind begins to slip into an unconscious state, slowly. His body is so relaxed, comfy, and his mind is as equally sombre. The bassist could feel himself begin to fall, but isn’t aware enough to put a halt to it…

 

Until it feels as if his back has hit the ground hard, and Murdoc shoots up so fast he nearly forgets how to breathe. Eyes wider than saucers, the white of the moon he expects to look up at is now obstructed, but not by clouds.

 

Instead, hovering over him by a few feet, is what looks like an angel. Or in better words, 2D. The singer is looking down at him with his large black eyes, and his trademark azure hair is flowing almost unnaturally in the air around him. 

 

But his flying. Sprouting out of his back and flapping elegantly, are a pair of pure white wings. Feathers and all, they are absolutely radiant. He doesn’t notice that the singer is shirtless since he is distracted.

 

Murdoc swears they’re brighter than the moon itself, but he is too stunned to actually confirm that thought because  _ 2D is fucking hovering over him with delicately beautiful angel wings! _

 

The sight of his band mate in such a state is so mesmerizing Murdoc is having trouble determining if he is dreaming or if he may have entered another dimension by any chance. His mind is frozen, he cannot think properly, and his body will not move one bit. It’s as if he is paralyzed, and then a wave of realization washes over the bassist. 

 

What if this is sleep paralysis? He’d heard it was a terrifying experience from Russel, but this? If this was sleep paralysis…

 

...it was blissful. 

 

Murdoc’s heart was beating a mile a minute, and it seemed like the angel was lowering himself closer to the bassist, his face coming closer and closer. Murdoc knows what is going to happen, and his body is moving on its own towards the angel. When 2D’s eyes drift shut and his lips begin to purse, Murdoc manages to shift his gaze elsewhere. The bassist finally catches a glimpse past 2D, and is shocked to see that the moon is  _ gone. _

 

The absence sends him reeling, and the moment that he feels 2D’s lips meet his, everything feels like it is falling once again, and Murdoc’s eyes are fluttering open again. 

 

The moon is back, but 2D is gone. The wind has faltered and Murdoc is on his back, phone still in hand. He immediately looks around, determining that he is still alone and that what he’d just seen  _ must  _ have been a dream, or is gone from sight.

 

Murdoc turns on his phone the next moment and gasps lightly. Only when he gasps is he suddenly aware of how his lips are unusually warm...

 

3:16am. 

 

_ Ha. So I must of passed out… _

 

Murdoc casts one last look up at the moon before sitting back upwards and stretching his limbs. The action makes the bassist drowsy and so he stands up slowly, joints aching in protest. He begins to make his way back inside of the house, brushing off the grass from his clothes as he walks through the backdoor quietly . 

 

On his way to his bedroom, Murdoc doesn’t hear 2D shutting his window rather loudly, nor does he notice the white feather tucked in behind his ear...

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Angel Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day following the mysterious dream, it just gets even weirder. And leaves Murdoc with some unanswered questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m going to continue this for a bit longer. Not sure how many chapters but because I suck at keeping on top of stuff, I’ll try to keep it short. Maybe like 5-10 chapters? 
> 
> I noticed a few spelling and grammatical errors in the last chapter and I will be fixing that soon. I will check this one as well later. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s already past twelve in the afternoon when Murdoc wakes up in his own bed. The bassist is unceremoniously laying sideways on his mattress while the covers dangle from his feet and sides. A tired groan leaves Murdoc as he outstretched his arms and forces himself to sit up. 

 

The bedroom is dimly lit by the light coming in through the window, and there are clothes (mostly thongs) loitered just about everywhere on the floor. Murdoc doesn’t think of throwing on a shirt as he pulls on a pair of jeans and walks out the door into the hallway.

 

On his way to the kitchen he can hear voices, two of them. They’re conversing among each other but the wall makes it sound like they’re mumbling. At the table is Noodle on her phone and Russel cleaning up the counters. It takes all the bassist has in his tired state not to roll his eyes.

 

“Well look who’s up.” Russel smiles friendly when he sees him. 

 

“Good afternoon!” Noodle looks up from her hands, “Sleep well last night?”

 

At the mention of last night Murdoc’s dream suddenly comes to memory. He thought he’d forget about it, like he normally does, but it was still so vivid in his mind that it was almost as if it had been  _ real.  _ The man swallows before cracking a small grin, remembering the question.

 

“Yeah somewhat a decent night.” Murdoc stands next to Russel and grabs the kettle only to see its full and just boiled, and begins to make himself some coffee. He turns back to Noodle.

 

“That’s good. How long were you outside for last night?”

 

The green man sits down at the table next to her, coffee in hand. “Just until past three in the morning.”  _ I passed out and had a weird dream of 2D.  _ Murdoc doesn’t say that last part and it’s hard not to. Apparently Noodle catches on.

 

“Ohhh. That’s late. Did you pass out?”

 

_ What is with all these questions?! _

 

Murdoc smirks. “None of your business. Plus, why does it matter to you?” It’s not by any means threatening. If anything, Noodle laughs and Russel rolls his eyes instinctively.

 

“Sorry, sorry. Forgot you’re not as talkative as 2D.” She giggles. 

 

Murdoc almost spits his coffee out but refrains and forces himself to swallow it. Now the mysterious dream is fresh in his mind, circulating like a cycle. 

 

“Where is 2D anyway?”

 

“I’m right here!” 

 

The singer comes in through the kitchen doorway, dressed and smiling wide. It almost comical how cheerful he seems to be, and his presence makes Murdoc’s shoulders tense. And although they’re pitch black, and his back is to him, the bassist can tell 2D’s eyes are on  _ him.  _

 

A lack of greetings and “good afternoons” from the others suggest 2D’s been up for awhile. He forces himself to face the singer, “Hey 2D,”

 

“Hi Muds!”

 

The green man swears his ears are ringing. Someone should bless him with the singer’s energy, because for the love of Satan, Murdoc can’t keep that cheerful even if he really wanted to.

 

Now facing the singer, he doesn’t look any different from how he was in the dream apart from the choice of clothing. His hair is still wild, eyes are dark and life-filled, and his skin is still a pale white. Murdoc is almost mesmerized again, that same feeling where everything felt like it was falling all over, but it fades away just as quickly as it came.

 

Murdoc luckily is on his last few sips of coffee, and in one big gulp he downs it all. “How are you?” 2D smiles, pretending he didn’t notice Murdoc’s lingering gaze. 

 

“Eh, I’m alright. You?” Murdoc stands up to ditch his mug when Russel dries his hands and leaves the kitchen. Noodle leaves shortly after when her phone starts to ring obnoxiously. 2D himself grabs a new cup and makes his peppermint tea like always.

 

“I’m good. I’ve been up since ten this morning.”

 

_ Unwanted information, but okay _ . Murdoc nods in response.

 

2D leans himself against the counter casually, looking around the room randomly before focusing back on his bandmate. He looks like he’s thinking before he sees something. Murdoc notices this and raises an eyebrow underneath his fringe, arms crossed skeptically over his chest.

 

“What are  _ you  _ looking at, Dents?” He smirks, leaning forwards a bit in hopes to tease the singer. 

 

“What’s that?” 2D doesn’t answer his question, instead asking another.

 

“What’s what?” A wave of self-consciousness.

 

“This!” There’s suddenly a hand reaching towards his face and naturally Murdoc flinches, turning his head sideways. Usually he’s blow up right about now on the singer for even outstretching an arm towards him, but he’s been working on it lately since returning from Wormwood Scrubs.

 

Murdoc feels something around his ear, but doesn’t know or see anything yet. 

 

When he pulls his arm back, 2D is holding a  _ pure white feather.  _ The singer’s own expression seems to be mirroring his own.

 

Shock across his features and disbelief at its presence, Murdoc grasps the feather with shaky hands. It’s so  _ soft,  _ and it’s  _ just like the feathers on the angel in his  _ dream _ last night.  _

 

“Wh-Where was this?” The bassist stutters.

 

“In your hair behind your ear. Is it yours?” 2D’s voice comes off a bit unnatural, but that doesn’t matter right now. 

 

_ No. It’s not mine… _

 

Murdoc looks back at the singer, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 

 

_...it’s yours. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and kudos if you like or want more! 
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcomed.


	3. 2D’s Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D realizes how acting on his own selfish impulses can lead to a great mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc isn’t crazy but he doesn’t know that yet. 
> 
> A bit more of 2D in this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

“Muds? You alright?” 2D’s voice calls in the background from in front of him, but he ends up being ignored.

 

All Murdoc can do is gaze at the white feather uselessly, baffled on how it identical it is from his dream. How? Was this just an ordinary bird’s feather? But why is it so big and what bird has white feathers in this area?

 

Frustration pulls at Murdoc’s veins. Then comes back a question he won’t admit to inadvertently avoiding, simply because he deemed it ridiculous. He’s known 2D for years, spent long nights with him, days on end, and never did the singer come off as anything else but a dopey human. Nothing supernatural about him. For fuck sakes, Murdoc has seen the singer shirtless onstage in front of millions. 

 

_ Was my dream actually a dream?  _

 

It didn’t make any sense. He was asleep for over an hour when it must have happened, and retreated back indoors afterwards. Everyone in the house was asleep, with the exception of himself of course. 2D was even sleeping!

 

...or was he? 

 

Murdoc forced himself to take a deep breath as the possibilities begin to make his head ache. He was so deep in thought that the singer’s sudden absence went unnoticed until now. The Satanist was suddenly aware that he was still in the kitchen at around one in the afternoon. 

 

2D’s departure makes his heart ache but it’s dismissed. 

 

Murdoc groans and tucks the feather into his pocket delicately so it won’t snap. Grabbing a packet of pop tarts from the neatly packed cabinets he goes outside to light a much-needed cigarette. 

 

…

 

2D sits with his back against his bedroom door, arms wrapped around his knees as he stares forward mindlessly. His black eyes are so wide that they reflect his room in them. He hardly even blinks. 

 

Last night was a mistake. And not how it usually pans out with him agreeing to pay child support for another lady. No. This was far more different.

 

Never the one for keeping too many secrets, 2D played it off as if it didn’t exist. 

 

It’s as if he doesn’t just sprout angel wings every night of a full moon. 

 

The singer can’t remember when this started to occur, but it does. And it has been for years now. Decades even. Some nights he sleeps through the entire thing, other nights he’s restless and plagued by the anxiety of  _ when  _ they will appear.

 

2D pinches his arm lightly, biting his trembling bottom lip. It wasn’t like having angel wings was a  _ terrible  _ defeat. In fact it was sometimes a bit amusing flying wherever he pleases. Just the nocturnal and temporary flaws make it difficult to fully enjoy. 

 

That, and that none of his band members can know unless he wants to be shunned and kicked out by the one man who he looked up to despite their rockiness. 

 

Last night the singer could not rest. Or fall asleep before  _ it  _ happened. He knew damn well that Murdoc was outside, and that’s what made it harder to relax. Paranoia took over and therefore the sleep 2D so wanted never came until late this morning.

 

He laid there for hours, hopelessly, praying he’d fall asleep and wake tomorrow morning with his normal body. No wings or he was very likely screwed. 

 

But what also kept him awake at night was the bassist. His fascination with the older man’s routine to lay outside and moon gaze was so obscenely uncharacteristic of Murdoc it no doubt spiked the younger man’s curiosity. So another reason sleeping never came easy the night before  _ could  _ be that too. 

 

2D really thought it would be sly of him to fly down to the bassist as he slept. Murdoc looked so peaceful under the moonlight, and undeniably handsome. He’d always had a sort of attraction towards him, but that was another secret he frequently pretended never existed. 

 

But he didn’t think Murdoc was awake. 

 

At least before the singer was hovering over the bassist, did it look like he was fast asleep. Covering the moonlight, the features of his face were obstructed only slightly. 

 

The way Murdoc’s face relaxed when unconscious was the killer though. 2D was almost caught in a trance as he weighed out the outcomes of what a stolen kiss from the bassist could be like. 

 

It must have been at that moment, when the singer’s eyes were shutting as he leaned in, the bassist’s eyes opened. Their lips met, but only for about a second before 2D flew away so fast in fear of him waking. 

 

Good call on flying off because Murdoc  _ did  _ wake up.

 

Down fall?  _ I left a fucking feather in his hair. _

 

2D didn’t know what was lodged in Murdoc’s hair at first glance, but upon pulling it from his greasy mop did the graveness of his mistake make itself known.  

 

As far as it goes now, 2D isn’t quite sure how much Murdoc even saw or remembers. Does Murdoc even care about the feather? His reaction earlier told him otherwise. 

 

The singer wanted to facepalm himself so hard over the entire situation. This wouldn’t have happened if he’d just kept his distance from Murdoc in the first place. And however complicated everything had become now, 2D knew he would have to find some way to solve this.

 

Because if he knows Murdoc as well as he does, then it’s likely he sent him into a fire of internal questioning and endless searching for answers. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or kudos if you like or want more! 
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcomed.


	4. Questions with No Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc needs answers. 2D needs a joint. They both get what they want. (Well, sort of...)

The rest of the week for Murdoc goes by painstakingly slow. Not that there was anything exciting or out of the ordinary to look forward to, but lately it was as if the earth was rotating slower than usual. The bassist was unsure if it was just himself experiencing it or maybe he’d been sober for too long. 

 

The grumpy bassist is sat criss-crossed-legged on his bed, tapping his nails against his knees in a frantic motion. The room is dead quiet, reeks of stale cigarettes, and the floor is a sea of dirty articles of clothing. His mismatched eyes are concentrated on his feet where they intersect with each other, cradling the white feather delicately in place. 

 

The mesmerizing image of the singer hasn’t left his mind yet. So unlike the other dreams Murdoc has had whereas he stopped thinking about them the next day, this one didn’t disappear so easily. Whenever he sees 2D around the house it is suddenly fresh in his mind, and the bassist can’t look at him for too long in fear that those pure white wings will sprout out of his back any moment. Not that angel wings are something to be frightened of but Murdoc wasn’t necessarily looking to have a heart attack just yet. 

 

_ Conflicted  _ sums up everything just about right. 

 

The dream felt too real, and paired with the suspiciously placed white feather in his hair, plus 2D’s strange behaviour all week long, Murdoc is convinced that  _ something  _ is going on or at least what happened actually  _ happened _ . He isn’t too sure what to think of it though, and even if he has a slightest idea, the bassist refrains from making any assumptions until then. There are more questions than answers. If fact so far the bassist doesn’t have  _ any.  _

 

On the other hand it makes no sense that his best mate of over twenty years could suddenly turn out to be an angel for the entirety of their...history. The blue-haired man has never displayed any supernatural signs or unusual behaviour, not counting when he was doped up on painkillers or stoned. 2D’s personality has certainly developed in the last few years, but so have everyone else’s. And plus, angels didn’t exist...

 

... _ right? _

 

Murdoc groaned in exasperation, pulling at his black locks lightly.  _ What am I missing?!  _ There had to be something. Nothing was clicking together and it was frustrating the bassist to the edge of insanity. The feather in his lap is blown away with the force of his sigh, and for a moment Murdoc is relieved it is out of sight. 

 

The whole ordeal has resulted in the bassist glancing at 2D more often than usual the last few days. It’s almost so much that Murdoc worries he’s being too obvious or that 2D is uncomfortable. He’d been caught once (as far as he knows) and nothing was exchanged between the pair. 

 

Ignoring the dream is easy when he isn’t around the singer or is busy with something else, but what Murdoc can’t ignore is how his heart skips a beat whenever he sees the singer, how much he hopes to see 2D under the moonlight again, because his pale skin and black eyes were  _ mesmerizing _ , whether it was a dream or not. He can’t deny how his eyes linger at the singer’s lip sometimes but he’ll never make a move. 

 

Murdoc is so consumed in his thoughts that the knocking on his door scares him out of his own skin. He knows the familiar pattern too well to ask who it is. Retrieving the feather he stuffs it underneath his pillow. “Come in.”

 

The door opens and 2D’s blue head pokes in curiously, a hopeful (but somewhat nervous) smile across his face. He looks as if he’s been sleeping all day, which is probably accurate. 

 

“Hey Muds, what’s up?”

 

The bassist scoffs, “Spit it out, dullard.”

 

The singer never came to Murdoc’s bedroom unless he wanted something, which he never usually gets unless the bassist is feeling  _ generous _ . 2D’s expression falls into a much more relaxed one as his cheerfulness falters. “Um, I was jus’ wondering...do you have rolling papers?”

 

_ Of course.  _ Its at that moment when the bassist notices the grinder in the singer’s palm. 

 

“Why yes I do,” Murdoc smirks, “What’s in it for  _ me?”  _

 

2D smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a subtle red. “Uhh..I was gonna roll a joint for us two to smoke?” 

 

Murdoc pretends his thinking of the answer before cackling, “No that won’t do...how’s about... _ answers?”  _

 

The singer’s eyes grow, confusion across his features. “Answers?”

 

Murdoc leans back against his bed, left hand reaching into his pillow case for the packet of rolling papers he stores within. The bassist waves it in 2D’s face playfully. “Yes, dullard. I want answers. Can you give me some?” 

 

The singer gulped nervously, but fought the bubbling anxiety in his throat and nodded sternly. He knew he owed the bassist an explanation, and now may as well be the time to do it. 

 

“Sure Muds. Whatever you want to know.” 

 

“Perfect. Shut the door and come to the bed. I got your papers.” Murdoc is just as nervous as the singer but it doesn’t show. 2D on the other hand is convinced he must be sweating. 

 

A mere five minutes later 2D has a sizeable joint rolled, despite the shakiness of his hands, it’s a good one. Murdoc who’s been zoning out again on what he wanted to ask was brought back when the scent of burning marijuana reached his nostrils.

 

The joint is handed over to him and once he takes his first puff does 2D speak again. “So. What did you want answers for?” 

 

Murdoc laughs, smiling daringly. “What kind of bird has white feathers?”

 

The singer is confused, but tries to formulate an answer anyways. “Um..a dove does...pretty sure.” 

 

“Yes, but I’m sure they’re not as  _ big  _ as the one you pulled out from behind my ear, am I right?” Murdoc argues, passing the joint back to 2D. 

 

“Uhm…” 

 

_ Fuck.  _ The singer is suddenly too aware of what Murdoc is getting at and takes a puff of the joint eagerly. 

 

“What about an owl? A snowy one?” That earns a skeptical look from the bassist and 2D knows he’s doing a horrible job lying. 

 

Murdoc continues to watch the singer, smirking as he witnesses a tremble in his bottom lip. 

 

“Okay, I, uh...I don’t know.” 2D lies. 

 

“Oh? I think you  _ do  _ know, 2D.” Murdoc retorts, but winks playfully afterwards. “How about we come back to that one later? Here’s my next question.”

 

Murdoc pauses as he takes the joint from 2D’s fingers. After taking a puff he laughs mischievously. 

 

“Ever drink a Redbull? Because I think it gave you…”

 

Times slows almost impossibly for the singer, but the bassist words are clear as day.

  
“... _ wings...” _


	5. Lost Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D’s no help whatsoever. Murdoc comes to a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday 2D! 
> 
> Murdoc is definitely out of character in this but he’s also a changed man. So...idk. 
> 
> Next chapter may be the last I am not too sure. I think of the plot as I write the story.

2D doesn’t know how to respond. His breath is caught in his throat and is suddenly tongue-tied. The singer’s black eyes are locked on Murdoc, unblinking.

 

_ He  _ must  _ know!  _ His dull mind repeats like a siren. Even with the marijuana’s haze 2D was almost positive. There was no way Murdoc would imply  _ that  _ for no reason right? 

 

Murdoc on the other hand was trying to hold onto his laughter at the reaction he got, but on the inside his heart was racing. So far he wasn’t getting the answers he was hoping for. 

 

“Umm..no. I-I don’t think I have.” The singer’s voice comes out in a weak voice. A dead giveaway to the inner turmoil brought upon him. Murdoc hands the joint back over to him, sarcasm rolling off his tongue.  “Ohh really?”

 

2D’s hand shakes as he takes the joint, his face heating up even more when his fingers brush the bassist’s. “I don’t know, okay!” The singer exclaims, eagerly bringing the joint to his lips to occupy himself.

 

Murdoc groans and screams internally. “So you don’t know if you have wings or not, dullard?” 

 

A jolt in his shoulders gives the bassist a slither of hope. But when 2D looks over at him with that look, it falters.

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ are you getting at here, Muds?” The singer ashes the joint once it begins to burn his fingers, eyes starting to turn white. “Of course I don’t have wings! I’m human! Do you _ see  _ a pair of wings on my back?!”

 

2D realizes his mistake too late. He’s spent so long keeping it a secret that’s it’s almost like he’s taught himself never to tell it. He reacts on impulse. He watches, crestfallen and guilty, as Murdoc’s face falls and irritation takes its place. 

 

The bassist’s hand reaches under his pillow and he pulls the feather out from underneath, glaring at it before putting it in the singer’s lap. Murdoc takes a deep breath, part of controlling his temper as of lately, exhaling once the anger dissipated. 

 

“Take this. Burn it or dispose of it, I don’t care.”

 

2D looks at  _ his  _ feather before glancing up at the bassist, “why?”

 

Murdoc shrugs, looking away at his wall, “Out of sight, out of mind, am I right?” His voice sounds defeated, reluctant almost, like he just lost an argument. The singer’s guilt worsens. If he could  _ show  _ him his wings right now, he would…

 

But it’s not a full moon. And it wouldn’t be for awhile yet. 

 

“What do you mean?” 2D pushes onwards though. Murdoc did a lot of things for a lot of different reasons.

 

“I...don’t want it anymore.” The bassist swallows, eyes darting from the feather to his own lap. “Reminds me of a  _ dream  _ I think...I had…I don’t know. It’s driving me insane.” 

 

The singer’s interest is suddenly peaked, realizing that now may be his chance to figure out  _ what  _ Murdoc might’ve seen that night. 

 

“What...What kind of dream?” 

 

Murdoc finally looks up at 2D warily. At this point the bassist was giving up on his crazy theory. What kind of lunatic thinks a dream like  _ that  _ is  _ real?  _ What even made himself hope it was real in the first place? Murdoc brushes the thought from his mind, focusing on how defeat feels heavy on his shoulders.

 

Although the bassist originally took the singer’s behaviour regarding his questions as a positive, the outburst left him feeling empty. Like he’s gotten nowhere.

 

Like the moon was playing tricks on him. 

 

“It...You..I don’t even know how to explain it. It felt  _ real.  _ Like I was really asleep, but I could  _ see  _ everything around me, 2D.” Murdoc stammered, throwing all care to the wind. 

 

_ Out of sight, out of mind. Out of mind, out of sight.  _

 

“I...I shut my eyes, for a few seconds, and when I opened them again...I see  _ you...”  _

 

2D’s heart stops and drops into his stomach.  _ Shit. _

 

“...with wings. You were an angel, flying over me and I was  _ paralyzed…” And then you kissed me…  _ The bassist’s head drops down, hiding his blush. It only intensifies as he feels 2D‘s black eyes on him. He retrieves the feather, twirling it between his fingers. “Then I woke up. But… _ this  _ I swear is from the dream.”

 

2D notices Murdoc’s blush and smiles softly to himself, a brief moment of relief from the inner embarrassment he was drowning in. Murdoc somehow saw all of that. 

 

Murdoc drops the feather once again, scooting away from the singer. The warmth in the older man’s eyes had gone now, a sign that he wasnt going to indulge much more. The bassist swings his legs over the side of the bed, “I think I’m goin’ quit enjoying the full moon…”

 

With that the bassist left his room, cigarette and lighter in hand. 

 

2D sat there, stunned and guilty, contemplating on going after him or giving him time to himself. 

 

The singer so badly wanted to tell Murdoc that it  _ wasn’t  _ a dream. That he wasn’t crazy and that he was in fact cursed with angelic wings…but he couldn’t, because...

 

_...I kissed him.  _

 


	6. Moonlit Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D’s got a secret to tell. Can Murdoc handle it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! This is the longest chapter yet and the second to last one. 
> 
> I wrote most of this last night with hopes of having it out yesterday since it was a full moon for me, but I had been suffering a massive headache all day and I passed out cold in the middle of my writing.
> 
> Apologies, please enjoy!

A few days pass after their conversation that left both men feeling quite empty. The two have somewhat been ignoring each other, whether it be staying in their own rooms or avoiding eye contact, it was becoming pretty obvious. Russel was picking up on it, but deemed it “not my business, man” and kept on with his own habits.

 

Murdoc’s discouragement hadn’t faltered at all. The moon tonight was a full one, and he had no plans to watch or even  _ glance  _ at the glowing beauty. As much as his mind needed to be cleared, especially after the last few weeks, the moon wasn’t going to be an option. 

 

The bassist was currently sat in the living room, watching something on the TV, a beer in one hand as Noodle lounged next to him with the remote. Russel was cooking dinner and 2D was nursing a particularly unpleasant migraine according to Noodle. Murdoc wanted to check on the singer but decided against it, judging how awkward things were between them right now. 

 

_ Besides,  _ Murdoc sighs,  _ he knows how to look after himself.  _

 

The program on the TV is bland and the bassist is uninterested. The smell of food from the kitchen is all that breathes life into the bassist, and it’s still not enough to ease his uneasiness. With no plans to moongaze, Murdoc figures he’ll drink on his own tonight. It’s been awhile since he’s touched any liquor now that he thinks of it, and so he isn’t racked by any underlying guilt. 

 

The bassist wishes he could have told 2D about the ending of his mysterious dream. As awkward as it could have made the situation, the fact that 2D doesn’t know prods at his own reassurance. It isn’t 100% lying, but it isn’t being truthful either.

 

A promise Murdoc made to himself when he got back was to tell the truth whenever he could.

 

But it’s not like indulging  _ that  _ detail would make the situation any better than it is now. The singer’s reactions nowadays are nowhere easy to predict now compared to 2005, and Murdoc is almost certain that 2D would likely be disgusted and want nothing to do with him if he knew of the kissing bit.

 

_ Because why the hell would he ever want to kiss me anyway?  _

 

He’s unworthy, not even valuable in the least for the singer to want to kiss him, despite his ruggedly handsomeness that appealed to some people. Murdoc doesn’t blame 2D for feeling weirded out in the first place when he described the dream. The singer would never see him in the way he wishes he did, especially after everything Murdoc had put him through.

 

It’s the only conclusion he can sensibly draw from the singer’s distancing between them.

 

But a (big) part of the bassist wishes that the singer felt at least  _ something  _ for him, or found him attractive at the very least. It’s a dream never to come true, but that doesn’t stop Murdoc from hoping. Even if it feels like all hope is lost right now, he still holds onto a shred.

 

“Murdoc?” Noodle smiles, unaware of the older man’s inner turmoil. He grunts in response.

 

“Ai, cheer up. Do you want the remote?” She waves the object up, “I’m going to check on Toochie, see if he’s feeling better for dinner.” 

 

Murdoc shakes his head and curls into his side of the sofa, “No, I’m alrigh’, luv.”

 

With that Noodle is off and the remote is on her abandoned cushion. The bassist contemplated grabbing it but doesn’t, instead turning to look out the window. 

 

The sun was starting to set and the sky was a range of pink, purples, blues and a bit of orange. The moon was somewhere out there right now, and Murdoc was grateful for he couldn’t see it right now. In the background an oven beeps and footsteps thump down the stairs. 

 

When asked if he’s hungry, the bassist politely turns down the drummer’s offer. His appetite is pretty much gone. The smell of food previously breathing life into his nostrils is now on the edge of nauseating. Before he knows it, Murdoc is up and out the front door, collapsing on the steps outside to light a cigarette. 

 

He tries to keep his gaze away from the sky since he’s not interested in the moon tonight. He doesn’t want another dream like last time. It’s only put himself in deeper turmoil when it should have done the exact opposite. Murdoc’s eyes only find the edge of the sky, where a sea of colours follow the sun’s path into the night.

 

It’s peaceful out tonight but it’s easy to resist this time. 

 

Murdoc doesn’t notice 2D’s form sat up on the roof, watching the same view with a faraway expression. 

 

The singer had been biting his tongue the whole time he and Murdoc have been avoiding each other, whether they’ll admit to it or not. Wanting so bad to let Murdoc know it wasn’t just a dream. The guilt he felt only worsened knowing the bassist wouldn’t be out for the moon tonight, like he  _ always  _ was. But Hell, he couldn’t even come out with his secret.

 

2D promised himself he’d keep it a secret just as long as it didn’t hurt anyone. Now his best mate had been thrown into the mix. 

 

The singer’s gaze find the moon, which should have caused his wings to sprout out by now. But they haven’t yet. Though it is only early in the evening.

 

In fear that his wings did happen to come earlier than expected, 2D faked a brutal migraine to deter Noodle or Russel from him. They knew to give him space and quiet whenever he suffered from them, and that’s exactly what they did today, apart from Noodle’s check-ins. 

 

It was enough that Murdoc potentially knew about the wings. And if he didn’t believe they were actually legit…

 

...he would tonight. 

 

2D couldn’t keep it from the bassist for much longer. And even if it did tear their relationship apart even more, at least the satanist could still enjoy the full moon’s serenity without believing he was a tad crazier than he already was.

 

The cigarette in his hand had burnt to the bottom now, forgotten completely with his racing mind. The singer threw it sideways off the roof before getting up on his feet and cautiously walking back over to where his bedroom window was. 

 

His wings would’ve been very helpful right now. 

 

…

 

After his two cigarettes, Murdoc made his way inside and up the stairs to his room, passing by Noodle and Russel eating their dinner in the living room. He still didn’t feel hungry. When he got to his destination, the bassist wasted no time in grabbing his notebook and pencil, in hopes of distracting himself fro-

 

_ Knock-knock!  _

 

Murdoc opens his door again, not even sat down yet, and nearly forgets to breathe in.

 

“Hey, Muds,” 2D smiles.

 

“Dents.” Murdoc quips, leaning against his door frame. “What you need?”

 

The singer plays with his fingers nervously, “Um, well nothing, but...I was wonderin’...”

 

Murdoc doesn’t really want to speak to him right now but fuck, he’s here right now and so he may as well go along with it. 

 

“...would you wanna, like, gaze at the moon tonight…with me?” 

 

Murdoc doesn’t even have the heart to say no. And that said heart makes the decision for him, with a garbled “y-yeah, sure” coming from his lips almost instantly.

 

2D perks up at that, and now suddenly is taller than he was a moment ago, with his teeth-gaped smile coming through. He’d been expecting to be turned down. He pretends he doesn’t notice the bassist’s blush (along with his own).

 

“Oh! Great, um...should we roll a joint?” The singer already has his rolling papers and weed in his back pocket, ready to go. He’s definitely nervous, almost panicky, but pushes it aside for Murdoc’s sake.

 

The bassist smirks at the thought of getting high, although it’s not a priority for him, “Yeah, sure.”

 

… 

 

As soon as they step out into the backyard of the Spirit House, a gust of chilly air breezes by, coaxing some involuntary shivers. The night sky has darkened enough that some stars are beginning to twinkle, while others steadily begin to appear.

 

Murdoc’s mismatched eyes finally land upon the moon and his mind goes blank for a split second at its purity, before he sees the singer sit himself on the grass, cross-legged. The older man sits down on his right, about a foot of space distancing them. 

 

_ Should have brought my jacket. Oh well.  _ The bassist thinks as he watches 2D roll the weed up. He’s captivated by the sight, at how the moonlight brightens his porcelain skin and darkens his midnight eyes. How blue his hair looks in the night. Murdoc doesn’t realize that he’s staring. 

 

His eyes travel down the singer’s back, where there are  _ no wings _ .

 

“...Muds?” 2D has a hand opened, expecting a lighter for the joint, smiling slyly. Murdoc curses inwardly before passing over his lighter. 

 

The joint is lit and between the bassist’s fingers a minute later, both men’s gazes up at the moon. Different thoughts running through their heads. Murdoc feels a wave of calm wash over him when he inhales, and 2D exhales deeply as he begins to feel slightly  _ off.  _

 

Murdoc suddenly laughs as he passes their joint back to 2D, “Y’know, I realize now how stupid I was to think you actually had wings.”

 

The singer gulps, bringing it to his lips. It’s silent, and the bassist thinks he’s been ignored before he hears 2D speak. “You’re not stupid, Muds.”

 

“Yes, I am. Dents, I almost believed you were an angel. But Hell, I would’ve known from the beginning if that were true. I changed your clothes and diapers while you were just a vegetable. Never saw any wings or such…” The bassist scowls himself. His downcast eyes are a window into the self-pity and embarrassment he’s showering himself with.

 

“Murdoc...you’re not crazy for thinking I have-“

 

“Had.”

 

“Okay, had. You’re not stupid or crazy for thinking I had wings.” The singer holds the bassist’s gaze meaningfully. He realizes how much he adores the man’s mismatched eyes as he does. 

 

“Well…maybe you don’t find me stupid.” Murdoc sighs, mumbling afterwards, “...but I do.”

 

2D can only wish his wings would sprout soon while the bassist takes the joint from him, taking a big hit before whispering loud enough for them both.

 

“...after all, it was...” Murdoc begins in a tone of utter defeat.

 

Then it happened. The feeling of skin tearing and sound of feathers gliding through the air causes the singer to gasp aloud. He feels his wings outstretched around him, pure white and softer than pillows. 

 

A single feather glides through the air and lands in the space between the two men, catching Murdoc’s attention. 

 

When the bassist’s eyes travel up to 2D and the wings sticking out of his back, time freezes.

 

“...just a dream…”

 


	7. Angelic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc ain’t happy about being deceived. But he ain’t too angry either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is most likely the last chapter. I’m not sure if I’ll have any more ideas for this fic, but I have some one-shot ideas in mind. 
> 
> Also, poorly written make-out scene. I don’t write these things often and I’m not the best at them so I apologize if you cringe.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this and supported through kudos and comments.

It was almost funny how Murdoc’s face had contorted into one of sheer disbelief and realization. Time felt like it had ceased to exist as mismatched eyes gaze upon the large, white wings sticking out of his frontman’s back. 

 

_ What the fuck… _

 

What’s worse, is that 2D is too distracted by the quickly fading pain and panic in his veins to register Murdoc is watching him. After a moment more of trying to regulate his breathing did he finally peek over to the bassist, half-expecting him to flee.

 

When their gazes meet, all he sees is the betrayal and hurt in Murdoc’s eyes. A sigh of defeat leaves 2D’s trembling lips, desperately trying to find the  _ right words _ to say. 

 

_ What the Hell are you supposed to do in this kind of situation?!  _ His mind is racing. Murdoc, on the otherhand, can’t even think straight, but speaks up anyways.

 

“How could you...ho-”

 

“M-Muds-” 

 

“No!” The older man yells, shaking sightly. 2D stills as the bassist begins to fume, heating up with anger. “You little..Argh! You  _ watched  _ me lose my goddamn mind over that ‘dream’, when it  _ wasn’t even a dream! _ Do you have any idea how much fucking sleep I lost, staying up at night thinking about how I might of been going  _ insane?!”  _

 

Murdoc’s hands are running through his hair, scratching and pulling as he rants. The younger man bits his lip, eyes watering as the guilt comes rushing back. But he’s more concerned about how loud the bassist is getting, starting to worry that they’ll come outside as well.

 

“You stood there, acted interested in my problems...while you  _ already  _ knew. And you...you...” Murdoc’s voice lowers as he trails off. The blush creeping over his cheeks gives away what he’s thinking about.

 

In a much more softer tone that would’ve taken 2D’s heart to new heights, Murdoc continues.

 

“...you kissed me.”

 

The singer looks down at his lap, wrapping his wings around himself. He keeps his mouth shut, fighting the tears in his eyes and hiding his blushing face from Murdoc’s view. His defensive position sets something off in the bassist, suddenly worried of frightening the singer.

 

An outburst like that had become a rarity for the bassist. He’d slipped up this time around, and although he should feel bad, he just feels like he overreacted.

 

“D-Dents, I-I won’t hurt you. Promise” 

 

When that doesn’t earn him any response, Murdoc nervously reaches a hand out to him, barely grazing his finger tips down his soft white feathers. 2D feels the slight contact and shudders as he wills away his tears, breathing in deeply before moving his large wings carefully. 

 

What was there to hide now? Murdoc knew  _ everything,  _ obviously. Turns out he was awake when he’d foolishly kissed his lips out of selfishness.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” 2D mumbles. He looks over at Murdoc, who scoots himself a little bit closer. His heart jumps but tries to ignore it. 

 

“Hm. I bet you are.” The bassist quips sarcastically. 

 

“I am, I’m truly sorry...I-I didn’t know how to tell you. I’ve never told anyone about my wings, Murdoc.” 

 

The thought never crossed his mind at first, but he supposed it wasn’t easy. “Why though?”

 

The singer scoffs, “I’m a freak. As far as I know, I’m the only person with angel wings. I wasn’t born with them. Otherwise you’d have found out when I was comatose. I don’t know how I got them, but every full moon, they come out! Plus, they’re annoying, they’re-”

 

“They’re beautiful.” Murdoc cuts in gruffly, catching 2D off-guard regardlessly though. He smiles a little to himself. The bassist glances at the wing outstretched behind him, flinching when the singer envelopes him with it gently, pressing the soft feathers close to the green male. 

 

Though their closeness is oddly comfortable and humble, 2D still feels bad. “And I’m also sorry, for...y’know.”

 

Murdoc smirks slightly, though his own heart skips a beat. “For what?”

 

The singer sighs, chuckling nervously. “For kissing you...I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why I did.”

 

Murdoc’s hopes fall down a cliff when he hears 2D’s regret. His eyes sting for a few seconds before scowling internally.  _ Like he’d ever enjoy kissing the man who nearly killed him and used to beat him up. _

 

“It’s...it’s fine.” 

 

It was, but it didn’t feel like it. Or maybe it wasn’t, and it did feel fine. 

 

2D wants to say something else as well, but the sound of a doorknob turning causes the pair to stand up in alarm. Within seconds, 2D’s about ready to fly off. Murdoc only has enough time to blink before he’s suddenly grabbed by the waist and the ground disappears from underneath him.

 

“What the fuck?! Stu! Put me do-“

 

“Shh! Trust me!” The singer flies up, desperately trying to get out of view from their bandmate below. His wings are powerful, strong and captivating to the bassist’s eyes. Better to look at those than the ground metres below. Despite the frontman’s skinny frame, Murdoc trusts 2D’s grip on him, but still wraps his arms around his neck securely.

 

2D manages to fly them high and far enough away until he’s sure they’ve avoided being seen. He looks down at the bassist clutching onto him, smiling reassuringly while soaring towards a tree in the distance.

 

“2D, how long did it take you to learn to fly?” Murdoc smirks again, thinking of how he’s unable to tie his shoelaces but can fly effortlessly. 

 

The question causes him to cringe. “About a year. Wasn’t easy. Hurt, too.”

 

When he first got his wings, he tried jumping out a window and catching flight, like how a baby bird learns to fly.

 

It didn’t go so well.

 

2D remembers falling on his ass  _ hard,  _ and the next few days afterwards were hell with the aching pain. He briefly remembers Murdoc teasing him for his “penguin-walk”, even going as far as to calling him a faggot.

 

The frontman carefully sets both of them down on a large, thick branch of a tree not far from the Spirit House. The full moon floats in front of them, almost level with the height they’re sitting at. 

 

“Well, at least you’re good at flying.” The bassist admits, almost sounding shy. The man has his legs crossed in front of him, arms holding onto the branch on his sides.

 

The singer smiles and thanks him quietly. His back eyes watch the moon intently as a wave of calm euphoria seems to rush up his body from his toes. 

 

In the distance Murdoc hears a door click shut and assumes who ever came out had gone back inside. 

 

“So,” the bassist starts, “why’d you kiss me, Dents?”

 

2D tenses and his pale face turns pink with embarrassment. His lips move but all that comes out is pathetic noise that makes him curl up even more. But that action only causes him to bring Murdoc closer with his large wing.

 

Meanwhile the bassist starts to smile slyly, “What? You really thought I wouldn’t ask and was just going to skip that  _ detail  _ like it never mattered?” 

 

2D shakes his head, fidgeting frantically, “N-No, I-I knew you’d ask! But I...I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that.”

 

“It’s a pretty simple question.” 

 

The singer avoids eye contact with Murdoc, cheeks burning darker as he chews his bottom lip. “I-I did it...cuz’ I thought you’d never find out about it if you were asleep...but you opened your eyes.”

 

It’s eerily quiet after he says that. Anxiety starts to pool in the younger man’s stomach as he shuts his black eyes shamefully.

 

_ There you go. Fucking everything up again. He’s probably disgusted with me now.  _

 

“I’m sorry, Muds.” 

 

Murdoc’s ripped from his own thoughts, eyes widening. “What? No! I’m not mad, don’t be sorry.” He daringly scoots a little closer, moving his hand over to just barely brush his fingers against 2D’s. 

 

The latter looks down at their hands, breath caught in his throat. Suddenly the bassist has leaned close enough to say in a voice just above a whisper, “Just means you’re too pussy to kiss me while I’m _ awake. _ ” 

 

_ This can’t be happening.  _ 2D thinks, looking straight at the bassist’s roguish smirk and the smug glint in his eyes.  _ He’s challenging me? Or just teasing me. I’m not giving in, though, I want to… _

 

“I ain’t scared.”

 

“Right, sure you aren’t. I bet you can’t kiss me in the flesh, right here, right now.” Murdoc laughs, taking his hand away from the singer’s, who secretly yearns for the lost contact. 

 

“I’m not kissing you, Murdoc.” His eyes involuntarily flick down to his lips for a split second and he knows the bassist caught him.

 

“Why?” His grin grows wild, letting his mismatched eyes linger to the frontman’s lips, but purposely keeps them there. “I think you want to…”

 

“Muds, mate.” 2D laughs suddenly, “It just sounds like you  _ wished  _ you were fully awake when I kissed you. Or maybe I kissed you so good you thought you were dreaming.” 

 

The bassist growls playfully, “Prove it then, Dents.”

 

_ Fuck it.  _

 

At that, the singer surges forward and captures Murdoc’s lips quickly, stunning him. Then he begins to reciprocate and suddenly 2D feels like he is dreaming. The world feels like it’s swaying and he reaches a hand up to caress the other man’s cheek.

 

_ Prove it then, Dents… _

 

Murdoc’s mouth parts slightly as he leans into his frontman’s hand, and 2D boldly slips his tongue in. The bassist is suddenly faced with a doubtful thought.

 

_ We shouldn’t be doing this. Not good for the band.  _

 

His hands move to the singer’s shoulders to put an end to their make out, but he only succeeds in pulling him closer when his bottom lip is sucked and he’s unable to pull away anymore. He fights for dominance with his own tongue, smirking when the singer makes a barely audible noise. Murdoc would never admit that he’d wanted this for ages.

 

“I kissed you…” 2D starts to murmur, only disconnecting from the other’s lips to speak before diving back in for more, “...because I’ve always wanted to…and I saw an opportunity. Couldn’t resist.”

 

Murdoc’s blush deepens, and he’s too enraptured with their passionate snogging to respond, shocked the singer has wanted the same thing for as long as he has. 

 

Eventually the two pull apart begrudgingly for air, both of them panting heavily. 

 

The bassist locks eyes with 2D, smiling cheekily. “Not bad, Dents.”

 

“Shut it.”

 

“Oi! I’ll tell the others about your wings. How would you like that?” Murdoc growls, and before the singer can retort defensively, the man leans forward and whispers. “Nah, I like your wings. No one else should see them other than me… Could be our little secret, eh?” 

 

2D slowly smiles, lips swollen and a hazy look in his eyes as the post-bliss of kissing Murdoc still left his mind in a daze, “If you want, Muds…”

 

With that the bassist leans his head against the taller’s chest, satisfied. His gaze finds the moon, shining at him and 2D, and calm washes over him.

 

2D’s fingers carding through his hair eventually lulls the older man to sleep. Just as he begins to lose consciousness, the bassist feels a wing envelope him, protectively blanketing him from the wind and keeping him warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment and kudos if you like or want more!
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcomed.


End file.
